Abbildungen der Seite

of a family, keeping a house, servants, &c. || which have mingled with the virtues of their bring with them. It is a miserable condition of own admirable portion of the creation. existence, and one to be dreaded and guarded Franklin was the earnest and able advocate against by a free and republican people.- of early marriages. Few men have ever lived When external ornament, pomp and equip- | possessing a more experimental knowledge of age, are from the state of society considered human nature, and none whose maxims are preferable to peace of mind, internal felicity, nore worthy of being treasured up as truths. As and unity of sympathies, it argues against the Lord Bacon remarks, " a man when be marmorality and principle of the people, and is an ries gives a hostage to society of his good and omen of evil import in reference to their laws, correct deportment," whereas the victim of government and liberties. An increase of ce celibacy has no check upon his licentious bab. libacy should from every view which might its, no sharer in his honors; and of the pleas. be taken of its causes and effects, be consider ures of a married life no man can form an ad. ed as an evil, and every measure calculated to equate estimate, until he assumes the digni. create a disunion of sentiment between the ties of that station, for which he was designed sexes—to cut off the dependance of man upon and created, and of the horrors of celibacy, woman, and woman upon man for the largest nove can adequately describe save him who portion of human happiness allotted to the de- has pined in the loneliness of the mind's soliscendants of our general mother” should be tude, and sighed in vain for one into whose deemed inimical to the good of society, !o the bosom he might pour the gladness of his heart, refined civilization of life, and to the diffusive and sympathize with, in the hours of gloom and participative happiness of all mankind.- | and adversity.-Phil. Album. That there are men who have selcted or who would select a life of celibacy from choice,

WOMAN.-Women, in their nature, are seems improbable. Marriage enlarges the scenes of our domestic pleasures-opens new

much more gay and joyous than men, whethsprings of action-new incentives to ambition

er it be that their blood is more refined, their --Dew motives for virtue, and in short, in

fibres more delicate, and their animal spirits creases a man's weight in society, gives more

more light and volatile, or whether, as some importance to his character and opinions, and

have imagined, there may not be a kind of bids him look upon himself as one fated to fill

sex in the very soul; I shall not pretend to an important link in the chain of creation, and determine. As vivacity is the guilt of woto transmit to posterity a name that will not

men, gravity is that of men. They should dishonor his children. This doctrine is one of each of them, therefore, keep a watch upon acknowledged truth, yet why are there so

the particular bias which nature has fixed in many.wealthy bachelors among us?

their mind that it may not draw too much, It is to be regretted that of late years some

and lead them out of the path of reason. of our young women have lost all, or many of This will certainly happen, is the one in every those natural charms which rendered them

word and action affects the character of being such fascinating models of good sense and re

rigid and severe, and the other of being brisk publican simplicity. Foreign customs and ab

and airy. Men should beware of being captisurd fashions have crept in among us, despite

vated by a kind of savage philosophy, woman, of every precaution, and it is too frequently by a thoughtless gaiety. Where these prewe find affection, (the darkest shadow that

cautions are not observed, the man degenercould fall upon beauty) associated with some

ates into a cynic, the woman into a coquette ; of the sairest and purest examples of the fe

the man grows sulled and morose, the woman male sex.

In cummon conversation this foi-impertinent and fantastical. ble is peculiarly prevaleut, and comes like a

By what I have said, we may conclude, mildew to wither and destroy some of the

men and women were made as counterparts most angelic and admirable emanations of

to one another, that the pains and anxities of virtue.

the husband might be relieved by the sprightIt is a boast with some of our modern fair

liness and good humor of the wife. When

these are rightly tempered, care and cheerfulones, which they make with a peculiar toss of

ness go hand in hand; and the family, like a the head, that they never even made them. I ship that is duly trimmed, wants neither sail selves a dress-assisted in the preparatiou of

por ballast.-Addison. a dinner, or knew the composition of a pie or pudding. So woderful has been their idolatry of high handed notions, that head dresses,

CHILDHOOD.—There is in childhood a holy flounces and false curls, have superceded all ignorance-a beautiful credulity-a sort of ideas of primitive simplicity, modest deport- || sanctity, that one cannot contemplate withment, domestic economy, and what is of still out something of the reverential feelings with more importance, domestic virtues. We of which one should approach beings of celestial course admit there are many exceptions to nature. The impress of divine nature is, as it this denunciation, but there might be more, were, fresh on the infant spirit--fresh and unand we trust that the influence exercised by sullied by contact with this withering world. many of our own excellent female writers, will One trembles, lest an impure breath should be still more effective in correcting the follies diin the clearness of its bright mirror. And

how perpetually must those who are in the cannot be compaired to it. It is in truth the habit of contemplating childhood--of study best of her works. Some of her other producing the characters of little children feel and tions have been censured for a want of probarepeat to tbeir own hearts- of such is the bility even in the fable and a too frequent use kingdom of heaven!” – Aye which of us, of the of the marvellous, after the example of Mrs. wisest among us, may not stoop to receive in Radcliffe, and some imitations of Fielding, struction and rebuke from the character of a Stern, and Miss Berney; but these critics little child ?- Which of us, by comparison

have little relish for writings of Miss Roche, with its divine simplicity, bas not reason to

who has always found a number of readers, blush for the littleness, the insincerity, the and particularly among the ladies." She has worldliness, the degeneracy of his own.

written the Vicar of Lansdown, 2 vols ; The Maid of the Hamlet ; The Children of the

Abbey, 4 vols. translated into French by M. DESTINY.-Hunt has recorded in the " Pe

Morrellet ; Clermont, 4 vols ; The Nocturnal riodical of Pisa” one of those little tales, so Visit, 4 vols; The Banished Son, 5 vols; common in the east, inculcating the great || The 'Houses of Osma and Almira, 3 vols ; oriental dogma of fatality. Solomon was walk- | The Monastery of St. Columbia, 5 vols; The ing in his garden with one of his attendants, Trecolpeck Bower, 3 vols ; &c. This lady is when they observed a strange and fearful fiz.

still living, and continues, from time to time, ure approaching them. Solomon,” said the

to amuse the public by her agreeable fictions. attendant," who is that strange and myste.

None, however, have attained the celebrity of rious being, his appearance fills me with dread; her Children of the Abbey, which, though send me, I pray thee, to the remotest mountain

now superseded by the more masterly producof lodia. The king in bis quality of magician tions of Walter Scott, was once in the hands sent him thither. The figure approaching of almost every novel reader in Europe and . said, “ Solomon, how came that man here? America. My errand was to seize him on the farthest mountain of India." Angel of death,” replied Solomon, " thou will find him there." CERVANTES.--Cervantes, the author of

a romance which all ages and nations THIE MIND.--The mind of man, when pice

have agreed to consider inimitable, was ly scrutinized, exhibits the most astonishing either impelled by his vanity, (of which phenomeoa. Il possesses the features of a di he had his share,) or forced by his misvine origin. How wondersul and multiplied

fortunes, (of which he had more than his are its powers! The understanding perceives, the will rules, the operations of the mind de: | share,) to attempt dramatic writing, a velope a variety of emotions, generally termed species of composition requiring a peaffections or passions. The understanding is | culiarity of talent, seldom found to exist intimately connected with thought, imagina- | in a successful novelist. His plays were tion, memory and conscience. The will unites all either rejected by the performers, with choice, desire and determination, and in the train of the affections and passious, flow

or damned by the audience; who, if they love and hatred, joy and grief

, meekness, and have shown themselves very silly in the hope, and fear. "All these, though we should treatment of some plays by other auprononnce them at first glance, 'seperate and thors, certainly prove themselves to posdistinct powers or faculties of the soul indepen- ll sess a little common sense in their redent of each other, are but one simple, un- ception of these. compounded principle, putting forth its energies in a variety of forms.--Moffit.

A sketch of one, (he did not print halt

the number that he wrote,) will serve MARIA Regina Roche.-- Miss Maria Reg. He manufaciured an affair, which may

to give some idea of his dramatic skill. ina Roche was born in England, and has made herself known, in the republic of letters, by a

be denominated in English, “ The Saintnumber of interesting Romances. Her writ- led Scoundrel :" the hero of which is ings have had a fashionable success, not only represented as being the exceedingest in the country in which they were composed, || koave' in all Seville, a city formerly but also in France and Germany, where good | notorious for inquisitors and sour oranges. translators have made them known and sought aster. One of her translators, M. Morrellet,

He is at last converted and changed to a himself a distinguished literary man, has said, priest, and as might be expected from in speaking of Miss Roche: of the modern his previous reputation for wickedness, English romances,(Walter Scott had not then

he becomes so sanctimonious and exempublished any of his works.) without except: plary, that he is singled out by Old Nick, ing those of Miss Burney, which have a repu: from the crowd of devout fanatics, as a tation so merited, none can be preferred to the Children of the Abbey, and the greater part | peculiar subject for torment and tempta

tion. The spectators are amused and a fawning air in his every motion. If edified by various terrible battles be- you have no personal beauties yourself twixt these two worthies, (the priest and he will allude to those of your relathe devil,) in which the former always tives or friends—if you have do mental comes off victorious.

Our holy hero is qualifications, he will praise those of a called to the death bed of a sinful wo- personal nature-if you are not of a good man, whose crimes are so numerous, || family, he will call such a distinction vain that, bopeless of absolution, she refuses and futile-and if you have no particular to confess, until the devotee, in a tran- | admiration for any object, he will make sport of enthusiasm or curiosity, proposes that the theme of his plaudits, and thus to exchange with her his virtues for her | in some trifle or other, discover a tangi. vices, in order that she may have the ble poiot of attact. There are but few greatest chance for heaven. The pro- | individuals who are not susceptible of posal is accepted : she confesses, and a || Aattery, when dexterously applied. The covoy of angels bear her lucky soul to most of mankind have some quality of paradise, while a congregation of infer- which they are in a certain measure nal spirits attack the magnanimous phi- vain. It is this weakness of human nalanthropist, and afflict him with boils and ture that renders men liable to be duped ulcers. From their machinations he is by the sycophant. Throw self out of again rescued by his faith : and to cut the question, and people would seldom the matter short, after working a few make arrant fools of themselves. But miracles to prove his right to canoniza- | get a man to conceive he is endowed tion, death draws the curtain of futurity with some peculiar faculty in an eminent from before his eyes, and the players degree, and he will make himself ridicdrop the curtain of the theatre before ulous in a short time, whilst attempting those of the spectators.

to develope this to others. It is to the

vain and ignorant that fawning is a pleasFAWNING.

ant tribute. Yet men of the soundest Sycophants of every character are minds, are frequently particularly tangi . contemptible. He that will flatter for ble to the arts of the parasite. It is so gain, would plunder for the same object, pleasant to be geuteely bespattered with under other circumstances. Nothing is praise--so agreeable to be called a beso contemptible as the man who sells | ing of wonder-that the spell when his judgement for profit-nothing so de- magically woven, is irresistible. In testable as a hireling pander. He that monarchial governments, a circle of sy. will fawn upon you in the hope of ob-cophants is the necessary appendage of taining a favor, will slander you in every man in power. Their business revenge if unsuccessful. The smile of is to flatter his follies, and perform the the sycophant is ever dangerous—ihere underhand business of his office. They is a curse lurking in his heart. The are a kind of spies retained in the serpraise of a parasite is the food of treach-vice-a sort of machinery that moves ery-shun it as you would the fascination with the changes of his countenance. In of a serpent. From such, curses are far a republic like ours, affairs are not carbetter than adulation--the one may be ried to quite so great an extent. Yet provided against-the other has a con men in office have their parasites—their cealed purpose, and may not. He that | eddies that undulate as the great fouowould lick your feet in prosperity, will tain evolves a bubblea-cringing sycoscorn you in adversity. The mind that phants that have no opinions of their own, is regulated by fortune is blended with and whose souls are bartered for a straw. a corrupt heart. Independence of spirit of all species of fawning, that is the hath no change in all relations of life, most abject and servile, which is entireits emanations are governed by one | ly subservient to the will of some affluprinciple. A sycophant may be discov- ent fool. To be subjected to the anaered in the most triling action. A smile | thema of bis ignorance and the curse of is almost perpetually upon his counte- || his passion-io quail at his frown, and pance-a compliment in his mouth-and ll cringe when he threatens—to advocate

some absurd project, in direct oppoistion SILLIMAN'S JOURNAL.---This periodical, to better judgment—there are human which is devoted to the Arts and Sciences, is beings who do all this, and revel in its

now at its fifteenth number.-There never performance.--Phil . Album.

has been a publication so extensively circulated in our country, or whose objects were

more calculated to advance the general views EXTRACT.-The heart of man, after it of literature. It is a credit to our nation, and becomes sordid and worldly, retains it has long been considered as standard aumany delicious sentiments of

thority among foreign nations. As a guide to young re

The natural seatures of our country, its geolomembrance, as the withered rose does I gical botanical and zoological productions, it the sweet perfume of its beautiful blush- || is invaluable. Ils editor has long sustained ing; but of all the gentle affections of the Professor's chair of Yale College with hongenerous humanity, there is none that or to himself, and credit to the institution. endureth longer, nor beareth fresher, so

Every lover of the sciences should be a patron

of this work. - New York Opera Glass. much of the pure, the excellent, and the exquisite, as the gracious largeness of parental love. It is the artery supplieth | hand in hand, because the parents of the lady

Two lovers, at Paris, lately hung themselves ibe equality of tenderness in the spirit would not consent to their marrying. of man and all that hath the holy name of charity and mercy, draw some portion A merchant who lately advertised for a of their virtue from its ventricle. But clerk who could bear confinement, has been in its flowing, there is a mystery to cause

auswered by one who has lain seven years in both wonder and sorrow: for often it

jail. engendereth but aches and anguish; and

Yankee Slory. living eel is said to have yet to those to whom it is a fountain of been found in a duck's egg, at New Bedford. such affliction, it would seem to give only an augmentation of delight-making

Married, them cling to their children long after

In this town, ou the 13th inst. by the Rey. they have outgrown all need of care ; || Mr. Miller, Mr. George Perrin, to Miss Ilanyea, prompting them to encounter singu-nah C. Chamberlin, daughter of Mr. Harmon lar humilizations, and to fondle over Chamberlin, all of this town. theo, even while they are fatally tainted in Providence, by Rev. Mr Edes, Mr. Jonawith the toul plaguespots of crime, as if than Gladding, to Miss Amey Stoddard. they loved the more because they es

In Smithfield, Mr. Grorge A. Streeter, to

Miss Ann Francis Sprague. teem the less.

In Shrewsbury, on the 1st inst. by Rev. Mr.

Allen, Mr. Whisken Whitney, of Bolton, to RELIGION OF CAINA.-Dr. Milne says that widow Lydia Who, of Harvard. every kind of idolatry exists in China. The In Columbia, S. Carolina, on the 31st July Chinese have gods of the hills, of the vallies, last, Mr. Frederick W. Green, (late of Wor. of the woods, of the shop, of the kitchen ; they | cester,) to Miss Sarah Briggs, daughter of Mr. adore gods who are supposed to preside over William Briggs, of Columbia. the thunder, the rain, the fire, the grain, the small pox, births and deaths; they worship the sun, moon and stars, and the genii of the

Died, mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas; they ad. In Leicester, on the 27th inst. Miss Char. dress prayers to the spirits of departed kings, lot Draper, daughter of David Draper, aged sages, heroes and parents, and have idols of 23 years. gold, wood, stone and clay. Every one pos in Westford, Jesse Minott, Esq. aged 69, sesses charms and spells, which are hung a formerly a representative of that town in the bo the neck, stitched in the cloths, tied to Legislature. bed posts, or written on the door. The Em In this town, on the 17th inst. Mr. Jonathan peror, statesmen, philosophers, merchants and Grout, aged 85. people are idolaters. Many of the learned af In Hubbardston, Sept. 26,Col. Moses Green. fect to despise the superstitions of the people, wood, aged 42. and to worship only heaven and the earth, but In New London, Conn. John C. Brainard, at the hour of death, not knowing tha true Esq. former editor of the Connecticut Mirror. God, they send for the priests of false gods to In New York, Count D’Espinville, Consul pray for them. In health they laugh at the of France at New York. fooleries of the more idolatrous 'sects, but in In Newport, Miss Louisa Brown, eldest sickness employ the priests to offer masses, daughter of Mr. Thomas W. Brown, aged 20, write charm., ring bells, &c.-- Hamp. Gaz. In Salem, Sally Parker, aged 2 years.



Pale, and emaciated by disease,
Was hushed as Jordan's waters, and he slept

When the delighted spirit bade adieu,

To mortal bondage and commenced its flight

Up to its Giver, there to find a home “ Were death denied, poor wan would live || Immutable, immortal, everlasting: in vain ;

P. Were death denied, to live would not be life; Were death denied, e'en fools would wish



TO S * * * * Then what is it to die, that it should be

66 Take back the ring-take back the ring." Essential to our happiness? It is

'Tis valueless to me, To throw off all things worldly, all the dross I would not that the fragile thing, That man is heir to, and go forth again

Should make one thought of thee.
Clad in the vestment of our better being.

The gem is rayless now, and dead,
And what is it to die? it is to cast
This mortal off for immortality.

It is no longer mine-
It is to leave this solitary sphere,

Its former lustre, all is fled,

And so alas! has thine.
This lone companion of material worlds,
And wing our flight to blessedness. It is On Friendship’s hand, I once believed
To take a spiritual image, and soar on

It could not fade-o'tis strange
To unknown regions, to unfathomed worlds, I thought so! but I was deceived-
And hold high converse with the mighty dead. Time, thou hast wrought a change.
'Tis to depart from this precarious home,
Where life is bounded, and its little span

No art can now repair the gen,
Marked out by moments; where the material

No power, thy truth restore

Believe me, friendship's diadem Counts transient days and seasons, and to go

Once tarnished, beams no more!
Where time has never wandered, where whole

Dwindle to moments, and a moment grows When Harry was old, to Maria he said,
Into the length of ages; where the past

« My dear, if you please, we will marry;" And future meet in one eternal present. Maria replied, with a toss of her head, And what is it to die? 'tis to begin

“I never will wed thee, Old Harry!" The glorious journey of the human soul, Towards infinite perfection. 'Tis to leave

Ile waited till all her gay suiters were gone, The troubles and afflictions that attend

Then cried, "a fine dance they have led you; The attributes of time, and in a state

The hand that I proffered, you treated with Of meet and fitting purity, to hail An everlasting, an eternal day

And now the Old HARRY wont wed you !!! Of joy and happiness. It is to go And traverse regions and inhabit realms

OVER THE SEA. Which we had often heard of, but of which

Over the seaover the sea, We had po real knowledge. 'Tis to go

Lies the land that is loved by me ; And search the mysteries of the universe,

A sunnier sky may be o'er my head ; And read in Heaven's high record-book, the

And a richer soil beneath my tread, laws

And a soster speech in my ears be rung Which govern worlds unaumbered *

Than the notes of my own wild mountain There was one

tongue, Whom I had known froin infancy; one whom

But never, oh never, so dear to me I loved to claim as kindred, who was called

Can the loveliest spot in this wide world be Away from earth and all its glittering things,

As the bleak cold land where the heather To claim his heavenly mansion. He was one Whose heart was stamped in virtue, and his

Round the place of my birth-o'er my fathsoul Was dimed not, tarnished not by the world's vice.

WORCESTER TALISMAN. 'Twas autumn and a chill and withering breath Blew o'er the flowers of summer; earth's

Published every other Saturday morning, by bright things,

DORR & HOWLAND, Worcester, (Mass.) at $1 The beautiful, that gare delight to hearts

a year, payable in advance. And buoyancy to spirits, all proclaimed

O Agents paying five dollars will be enti:

led to receive six copies. A dying season and a waning year. He withered with the gems of nature ; died

R Letters, intended for THE TALISMAN, With summer's beauties, and as calmly too.

must be post paid to insure attention. The earthly taberpacle of his soul,



[ocr errors]



er's graves.

« ZurückWeiter »